


The Joys of Feastday

by flowerheadfreak



Series: The Gift of Magic [6]
Category: Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: F/M, Feastday, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-08-12
Updated: 2010-08-12
Packaged: 2017-10-11 01:45:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,007
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/106952
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flowerheadfreak/pseuds/flowerheadfreak
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Warden's mischievous side shows when she decides to prank all her companions, especially Zevran</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Joys of Feastday

She awoke in her tent, a day’s journey away from Orzammar.  __

_What’s today? _she thought deliriously.

Arabelle squealed with joy when she realized that today was the best day of the year.  She remembered the first time she pranked someone, Greagoir, with the help of Irving of course.  The trick was to find someone’s hate of something, and use it to your own amusement.  If they were still mad, you’d have to give them a gift they just couldn’t refuse, Irving had taught her.

She was only 6 when she pranked someone by herself, she’d targeted some funny-looking kid,  Jowan.  They became fast friends after that.

She was older now, more mature, but began listing all her companions’ names anyway, listing their loves and hates.

_Morrigan…she hates the Chantry, loves making a fool of Alistair-well I think I saw a doll that looked a little like Alistair with needles stuck in it at Bodahn’s…_

_Sten- hates anything cutesy and un-warrior like, loves his culture, a book with qunari philosophies maybe._

_Shale-easy, she hates pigeons. Loves rocks, _pet_ rocks_

_Alistair- uhh…_

What does he hate?

_ He loves anything that has to do with the Grey Wardens, a puppet maybe?  And cheese, but he eats that every day…hmm rotten cheese...?_

_Wynne-I’ll have to give her something that makes her age stand out. Heh.  She loves the Circle, maybe something that reminds her of it._

_Leliana- hmm, ugly shoes?  Yeah, that’ll get under her skin.  She’s a bard, so she must love lutes._

_Barkspawn-….he loves everything.  I’ll slip a protective collar around his neck see if he loves that.  He’s a dog, uh, just get him a stick._

_Zevran-….well, he likes sex.   That’s it._

She began to think furiously about Zevran’s loves.  Poisons?  Gold bars?  Leather boots, Dalish gloves, no no _no_, she’d already given him those things before.  And she certainly wasn’t about to offer sex.  That’s out of the question.

_I’ll figure it out._

She crawled out of her tent.  It was still early, everyone was sleeping still, save Shale.  Thank Andraste they found her, otherwise they’d still have to resort to taking watch shifts throughout the night.

She tip-toed quietly over to Bodahn, waking him with a gentle shake.

“Warden?  Uh, do you need something? An enchantment, maybe?  Oh, I know, how about that necklace I mentioned yesterday?” he mumbled quickly.

Amazing, even when he was _tired_ he kept trying to convince her to buy something.

“No thank you, Bodahn.  Do you have anything new in stock?  Today _is_ Feastday, you know.”

“Ahh, I see.  A prankster, you are.  Sure, I have some crazy things in stock today, why don’t you take a look?”

~~~*~~~*~~~*~~~*~~~*~~~*~~~*~~~*~~~*

She’d bought _everything_ that he had that had anything to do with Feastday.  There was still another hour left before everyone would wake up.  She’d have to work quickly.

She dashed over to Morrigan’s lonely tent, since it was closest.  Flemeth’s Grimoire was replaced the Chant of Light.  Arabelle continued quietly over to Wynne, promising herself she’ll get Shale later.  Wynne’s staff was replaced with an ugly hobblestick that summoned cats every time you touch a certain area.  That ought to be for a good laugh.  Leliana was next.  She peeked inside Leliana’s dark tent, searching for her boots.  They weren’t too far, an arm’s length away from the entrance.  They were replaced with the most hideous boots she’d ever seen, the elf imagined the red-headed bard waking with a scream.

_Hahaha!_

Zevran?  She skipped him, tip-toeing passed his bedroll, over to her next victim.  Alistair was next.  She placed rotting cheese into his pack, the smell so gruesome she had to hold her nose to do so.  She snickered as she hurried away.  Sten, she took his one of his greatswords, avoiding Asala(he was quite sensitive about it), and took it to Sandal, who slipped and interesting butterfly-rainbow-glow rune, an immediate effect on the sword.  She quietly returned it to its owner. 

Barkspawn was supposed to be next, but she’d rather put the collar on him while he was awake, that way he wouldn’t jump up barking out of surprise.

Arabelle went back to her tent, listening intently, pretending to sleep.  Waiting.

It wasn’t for another 10 minutes that Leliana’s scream pierced through the camp, waking everyone.  Arabelle smothered an incoming laugh while she came out of her tent.

“What? What’s wrong Leliana?”  she asked with fake concern.

“My boots!”

Zevran snapped his head over at her. "Your what?"

"My boo**_t_**s, you fool!"

She held up those hideous boots with disgust, and as if right on cue, Alistair jumped at least 5 feet away from his pack with a traumatized face.  Sten held up his rainbow glowing sword with a look of…anger mixed with confusion?  Arabelle couldn’t tell, but it made her laugh to herself anyway.  With an army of cats scattered about, Wynne threw the hobblestick away in frustration.  Morrigan yelled across the camp.

“Whoever placed this…abomination in my tent, know that I will hurt you!”  she hollered, squinting furiously at Alistair.

“Happy Feastday, everyone!”  Arabelle cried out joyously.

~~~*~~~*~~~*~~~*~~~*~~~*~~~*~~~*~~~*

“Hello Shale.”

Shale turned towards the small woman-child elf.

“If it dares do anything mischievous to me, I promise I will bash its tiny head in.”

“What?  No, no!  I wasn’t going to do anything to you, Shale, I just came over to talk about- ugh, is that a stupid pigeon over there?” Arabelle pointed suddenly towards the end of camp, and taking advantage of Shale’s distraction, jumped up to place a fake pigeon on Shale’s shoulder.

“I don’t-…”  Shale immediately saw the atrocity on her shoulder, and before Shale could react, the tiny mage was already gone.

~~~*~~~*~~~*~~~*~~~*~~~*~~~*~~~*~~~*

“Go get the stick, boy!”  Arabelle encouraged with a cooing voice.  Barkspawn (who Alistair named) ran after the stick excitedly and returned with the piece of wood in his mouth.  He’d whined repeatedly when she put the protective collar on him, but it ceased when she pulled the stick from one of her sleeve-pockets.  That was her gift to him, and she’d already given her make-up gifts to everyone, even with their irritation, her gifts were spot on in the “can’t refuse” department.

“Ah, my darling Grey Warden, just the woman I wanted to see,” Arabelle heard from behind her.  She didn’t have to turn around to know that it was Zevran.  Who else had that distinctive accent and referred to her as _my _[place possessive adjective here] Grey Warden?

“Yes, Zevran, how can I help you this fine evening?” she said without actually forming her sentence in a question, turning from her dog to face the other elf.

“Well, I noticed that I did not receive a…_gift_ today-”

"Nor a prank," she added, rolling her eyes.  She saw his eyebrows wiggle at “gift”, suggesting something she probably didn’t want to know, but she was more annoyed that she couldn’t prank him.

“Yes, and a prank.  And I was wondering when I would receive those.  Preferably _my gift _first.”

Damn, he noticed that she’d given everyone something they couldn’t refuse, and she’d already run out of gifts to give him, leaving only that_ one thing_.  She shivered at the thought, but he didn’t notice. Nervously running her hand through her raven black hair, she answered “What is that, some sort of _sick_ innuendo?” suddenly an idea occurred to her.

“... If you want something, you need only ask.” She played his seductive game, touching his arm playfully, even imitating his sly smirk.  Arabelle knew she fooled him when she saw a spark of excitement flash in his amber colored eyes.

“What exactly are you suggesting, my dear?” he purred, thinking that he was finally successful in his pursuit.

She resisted the urge to laugh out at the easiness of it all, she knew **exactly** how to trick him.  Her make-up gift?  Well, she did buy some Antivan brandy not too long ago.  Why didn't she think of this before?

“Let’s not beat around the bush, Zevran, we both know what you want.  Just know that I’ll get you _soon_ enough.  Get into my tent.”

He’d missed her subtle warning.  This was playing out quite nicely.  He turned towards her tent, entering slowly, trying not to show any eagerness.  She followed, but not before swiftly picking up the chastity belt she’d found on the road from her pack.  Alistair giggled upon seeing the belt, instantly taking in its meaning.  She smiled hysterically and winked at him before she entered the tent, hiding the belt behind her back.

“Well first thing’s first, Zev.  You’re gonna have to have you remove your armor so this’ll work.”

“Already done,” he answered.  She was astonished that he’d undressed so quietly, so rapidly.  Her eyes couldn’t help but run down his body, his tattoos exposed, his lean chest bare.  It doesn’t hurt to appreciate splendor when she saw it, but she stayed focused.

He noticed her astonishment, and smiled his coy smile.

“Haven’t changed your mind, have you?  There’s no need to be shy, I’m _very_ experienced in this art.” 

_Yes, I think you've mentioned it once or twice before..._

“No,” she replied, stretching the _n _into an _nnn_.  “I’m just thinking that maybe you’d enjoy this better if…you had a blindfold.”

“Oh ho ho, a challenge I see. Very well, my dear Grey Warden.”

She tossed him an unimportant piece of cloth from her robes and watched him tie it around his eyes.

“Tightly?” she asked, to which he nodded.  She quietly slipped behind him, tightening the blindfold, she knew she couldn’t trust him with that.  Thankfully he was still standing, and she opened the belt.  She had to fool him a little more, tenderly touching his arms, running her fingers down his tattoos.

Abruptly, she stopped, quickly snapping the chastity belt in place, and ran manically out of the tent.  She howled with laughter when he stepped out of the tent, frantically trying to be rid of the metal trap, he was still half-naked. 

“This…This is what you had planned?!” he pointed at the belt.  She waved the key mischievously in his face, one eyebrow slightly raised with a smirk on her lips.

“But of course!  I’m a mastermind when it comes to being tricky, _my dear Zevran_.”

The look he had on his face was priceless; this was definitely the best prank of the day she told herself.  Zevran’s expression went back to his normal smug face. 

“Alright, then the key is my gift then?”

Arabelle shook her head.  “Nah, I’m going to keep this, Zev.  But I do have something that you might find interest in…just put your clothes back on.”

~~~*~~~*~~~*~~~*~~~*~~~*~~~*~~~*~~~*~~~*

“That was a good prank, for a moment there I thought you were really going to…well you know what I mean,” Alistair smiled, his cheeks blushing slightly at the reference.

“Haha, really?  I fooled you too, did I?”  Arabelle replied, looking up to meet the human’s light-colored eyes.

“Yes!  I think you had us all fooled.  You make quite a prankster, Arabelle, good thing you gave him the ale or else he’d be complaining right now.”

“Aw, thanks, Alistair,” she laughed, “you don’t have to call me Arabelle, you know. Just call me Abby, if you would.”

He stared at her warmly for a second, knowing she only asked this of people who were close to her.  One step closer, it seemed to him.

“Abby,” he repeated.  She nodded once with a gracious smile and bid goodnight before she retired to her tent.

_Ahh, another year’s success_, she thought to herself while tiredly laying in her bedroll. _‘Til next year’s Feastd-Oh!!_

She jumped from her bedroll, revealing ice cold water lying in it, and it had bled into her clothes to her skin, making the tiny hairs on her neck stick up, the sensation made her squeal.

“Oh, very funny, guys!!” she yelled from her tent, to which her companions all laughed goodheartedly.

“I’ll remember this next year, just you people wait!!”

**Author's Note:**

> I was a little disappointed with the lack of conversation about the gifts and pranks for feastday so I made this little story


End file.
